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Chapter Text

Miles Edgeworth wasn't someone who put a lot of stock into superstitions. Such wives' tales were little more than rushed conclusions, formed without thinking through all possibilities and simply coming up with the most convenient explanation. Or at least most convenient for the people concluding things, less so for many victims of the conclusions. With all that said, the prosecutor was coming very close to believing that black cats were bad luck. After all, every bit of his troubles could be traced back to the day he met that midnight feline.

The first time was almost a month prior. He'd been on his way home from a brief walk with Pess when a loud gunshot sounded from they alley beside him. Turning to see what happened, shocked more than a little by the noise, Edgeworth witness two men gun down another. The victim's back was turned to him, but the two gunners were in plain sight from the alley entrance. One was surprisingly dressed to the nines, blonde hair styled and spiked out under a fedora with shades covering part of his face. The other wore over-sized clothes that hung off him to make him larger, but enough muscle was defined under the loose garbs to make him imposing. His face was tanned and scarred and his beard had grown fully but without proper care.

Then they saw him as well and his brain started into overdrive. He made to run but instead found himself somehow tangled up in Pess' leash. The mutt must've dashed around him while he was distracted. Instead of going forward, however, this resulted in him tumbling backwards and into a trashcan behind him.

The trash receptacle was chained to the building--a French cafe he'd visited once before--but it managed to tilt over enough to spill a couple of used bottles of perfume, the scent overwhelmingly powerful but not nearly as repulsive as actual garbage. The prosecutor was tugging himself out of the leash as quickly as he could when he heard one of the men--the blonde fashionable one--scream in pain as he fell backwards into his partner, effectively stalling the two.

Edgeworth tried to stand up, another loud noise distracted him, this time from the other side of the alley entrance. The Tres Bien sign clattered to the ground, perched against the wall in a slant. The trashcan next to him rolled without provocation after that, striking his crouched form and knocking him back against the wall. This was a small fortune as the disheveled man stepped out of the alley, gun held at waist height, and he managed to glance over both ways without seeing Edgeworth.

Noticing the fallen sign, he gestured back to his partner who hobbled out, limping in pain from a glass shard in his foot. "The guy must've gone this way," the darker man indicated with a nudge of his head. "Knocked the sign down in his panic or something." And the two were off.

Once they rounded a corner, Edgeworth wasted no time in calling Gumshoe. "Detective," he snapped, interrupting the man's greeting. "Two suspects seen taking down past Third Avenue and Wilson. Blonde in a three piece black suit and a dark haired man with a beard and dressed in an oversized red and white sweatshirt. They just shot a man in the alley next to Tres Bien and they're armed." He hung up the phone without waiting for a response, slipping into the alley to check on the man.

He didn't know the victim. The man looked like a simple business man, average in every sense of the word for a thirty-something individual. Three holes in his chest told a story that was anything but simple. Fingers to his neck found no pulse, but a slowly dying temperature.

The whole incident had to have taken less than five minutes, but it was taking Edgeworth even longer to sort all his thoughts out. Pess had stepped into the path, looking for her owner after having broken free of the leash when the guns went off. Deciding to wait for Gumshoe, he strolled over to Pess and reattached her leash.

That was when the cat stuck its head out of the trashcan, big yellow eyes seeming to stare at him with years of wisdom. It jumped out and landed next to Edgeworth and Pess' feet before starting to groom itself. Curious, Edgeworth knelt down, letting the feline sniff his hand before he ran it over the cat's fur once and then tugged at the red scarf around its neck. A collar underneath had a name-- "Sissel"-- and a phone number.

"Lost your owner, Sissel?" Edgeworth asked the cat, who meowed in response. He picked the black creature up and glanced nervously back at the alley, hoping the cat and the man were not related.

When Gumshoe arrived, he had the well-dressed man in tow. The detective recited off a string of events that sounded as bizarre as Edgeworth's own circumstances, but the end result was that only one murderer had been caught. Well, that'd do for now. He planned to drop Pess off at his house and then make a run to the station to get a sketch artist to make an portfolio of the missing culprit.

Somehow he managed to get all the way home before remembering Sissel, who had followed along behind him at a brisk walk. Just as well. Edgeworth let the small beast in, looking around for something suitable to feed it before settling on scrambled eggs with a bit of ham. On his way back to the precinct, he tried Sissel's phone number only to get a disconnected message. Nevertheless, he dialed the number three more times before finally meeting with the sketch artist.

*

The second incident had been significantly less dramatic but still incredibly unlucky. Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey had stopped by to visit unannounced, much to the prosecutor's chagrin. The lawyer's assistant, however, came bearing the latest Steel Samurai movie--given to them early due to their friendship with the lead actor who had reprised his role for the film. Phoenix had a few bottles of wine he wanted to try out. Edgeworth pretended to cave to the alcohol but the expressions on his two unexpected guests said they knew otherwise.

An hour later, Maya had Phoenix watching the last few episodes of the Pink Princess that he'd managed to avoid seeing until then because "it's absolutely important for the movie, Nick!" Edgeworth listened to the sounds of the heroine saving the day while cooking dinner for the group. He'd somehow been roped into making Maya some burgers "Edgeworth-style." He didn't know what that meant, but figured he could do something with the concept. Three patties were cooking on the stove with Pess begging at his feet as per usual. Sissel had chosen a stool at the island counter, staring at Miles with those too-wise eyes.

"Hey! Mr. Edgeworth! How looks to cooking?" Maya asked. "Because I'm starving!" She glanced at the stove and frowned. "I hope that's not all you're making."

"Of course not. I have the ingredients to put together a salad on the side."

"Salad? Blech, just make more burgers." Maya puffed her cheeks out. A meow to the side drew her attention and she squeaked. "Mr. Edgeworth! When did you get a cat?" She made a high pitched noise as she scooped Sissel up and spun him around. "What's your name? You're clearly something fierce like Samurai or Princess."

"Sissel and he's not mine. He's lost and I'm trying to get ahold of his owners. I'm simply watching over him until then." Edgeworth studied the cat carefully in case the spirit channeller cause him any undue stress. He'd contacted his vet who helped him get a found notification on the cat to other offices and had even managed to find the source of the phone number. Several cities south and a few hours drive, but the owners had apparently moved according to the apartment complex's landlord. Where to? No one knew.

"Well then, Sissie, you want to watch the Pink Princess with us?" Maya inquired, hugging the black cat close. She trotted out of the room, requests for more food forgotten in favor of the new creature. From the kitchen he could hear the woman enthusiastically introduce Sissel as Edgeworth's cat to Phoenix.

Sighing, Edgeworth turned to the dog at his feet. "She comes up with her own conclusions. I've long stopped trying to figure her out."

Another half hour had him bringing the food out, generously providing a second open face burger for the legal aide while settling Wright down with a small plate at the coffee table. Sissel darted from Maya's grip the moment she went for her food, launching himself to the back of the couch. Maya had chosen the floor for some obscure reason, putting two layers of distance between her and the cat.

Wright scrunched his face up similarly to his assistant at the sight of the vegetables and Miles smirked at the expression. "Eating healthy seems to almost be repellant to you two. Perhaps next time you come over uninvited I'll simply prepare grilled asparagus with liver."

"Ugh, that sounds like something you'd do," the attorney grumbled.

Edgeworth merely chuckled in response. He set his own plate down, before changing direction to get the glasses he'd prepared for the meal. However, Sissel seemed to take issue with this plan, bolting off the back of the couch to and in front of the prosecutor. Unused to the antics of a cat, Miles found himself stumbling forward before tripping entirely and toppling sideways. All he could do was let out a startled noise before he ended up collapsed on the couch, sideways, groaning into the k cushions with the laughter of his two intruders against his back and legs.

Attempting to sit up was a chore as well, since he'd literally half landed on Wright and every movement pushed him more awkwardly into Phoenix's lap or against the back of Maya's head. Neither seemed inclined to help either; both laughing too hard at the incident that really didn't warrant as much humor as they partook in.

Blasted cat.

*

The third incident was the most nerve wracking. He'd been woken from his sleep by Pess launching herself off of his bed. The big furry monstrosity began to pace the bedroom door nervously, bringing Edgeworth to follow in a sleepy state. Figuring she needed outside for a moment, he rubbed his eyes blearily and just followed the worried animal as she trotted down the hallway. It wasn't until she stopped, haunches up and growling quietly that he realized something was very very wrong.

The prosecutor crouched, his pulse pounding as he tried to listen to what had upset his dog. Sissel's eyes shined in the night's low light from his side so he knew it wasn't the cat. Several quiet moments allowed him to hear the very subtle creak of a footstep on hardwood floor. Edgeworth shivered. Someone was in his house.

Kay Faraday had intruded more than once, so it wasn't as if it was a novel concept, but Pess liked the Great Thief. This was clearly not her.

Another footstep and Pess launched herself forward, determined to protect her master from whatever enemy had stepped into their territory. A loud crash of something glass falling followed by a gunshot had Edgeworth running for his furry guard before common sense stopped him. He was around the corner, Pess laying under a broken vase and covered in water. At a glance he couldn't see any blood, but he was only spared a glance before the intruder yelled and a black figure jumped passed him and onto the man's face.

Apparently, Edgeworth had a guard cat as well.

The cat, unfortunately, was easily tossed aside and Edgeworth only had a moment to act as he made for the man's gun, trying to wrestle the weapon aside and out of his opponent's grip. The intruder fought back, but with Edgeworth putting his full weight onto one arm, it was difficult. Shaking as he finally pinned the arm down, Miles realized both were effectively stuck and there was no phone in reach.

A fist slammed into his back, the criminal deciding he'd attack the prosecutor another way and Edgeworth grunted in pain, clinging to the arm even tighter. A second strike happened and then another loud crash of glass falling and shattering. No third strike came.

Edgeworth hesitantly turned to to see the man behind him, a mixture of relief and devastation at the sight. The man was unconscious, Edgeworth's favorite porcelain teapot in pieces on his face. The silver haired man leaned over and tugged the cloth mask off of the fallen body. The face underneath was familiar, yet different. It took him far too long to realize it was the man from the alleyway just without a beard. He looked significantly younger without the facial hair.

His phone had fallen with the kettle, apparently, but survived the drop. He immediately called the police, though he hurried to check on his two animals as he did so. Pess was his first priority, bias making him move to the puppy who he'd raised for so long. She wasn't moving much, but her chest rose and fell with steady breathing. Wet and a little hurt, she appeared to just be knocked out by the vase.

Before he could check on the cat, however, Sissel rubbed his face against Edgeworth's leg, intent on making his presence known. Or, perhaps, checking on Edgeworth and Pess as well.

*

That all accumulated to his current situation where he was beginning to wonder if the little black cat he'd taken in was some kind of curse. If it was, the current situation was much more interesting than any curse he'd heard of. Because not a month after he'd brought Sissel home, he found himself staring at... well his own dead body.

Collapsed on his desk, the silver hair and red suit was unmistakable. His office seemed to still be in order, except for a fallen teacup and a little bit of spilled tea. Almost impassively, Edgeworth tried to figure out what exactly transpired to have him end up in such a state.

Except, his apathetic logic was tripped up by the sight of the three others in the room, all openly crying as one tried to call for an emergency. Phoenix and Maya were before his desk, the former resting a hand on the latter's back as she knelt and bawled openly. Trying to remain strong, Wright stood there, wide eyed as he stared at the body before him, tears staining his face.

Gumshoe was loudly yelling at his phone, stuttering through sobs as he tried to explain to the police what was going on. A discarded parcel was at his feet, the fabric pattern familiar with tiny rocks shaped like nines decorated over it. Miles' name was on the package.

His stomach dropped and his emotionless response crumbled in the face of the three grieving individuals. Tears started to form on his ghost self as he desperately reached out to try and tell the others to just walk away, step away, he wasn't worth all this pain. Instead, his hand went through their bodies and his thoughts remained unheard.

"You're awake this time. That'll make things so much easier." A deep voice shook Edgeworth from his thoughts and the prosecutor turned sharply to the corner that he heard it from. Sissel's yellow eyes glowed from the chess board before the cat jumped off of it and onto the sofa against the wall. As if ignorant to the despair in the room, the cat curled up and seemed to drift off to sleep.

Instead of that being the end of it, however, a blue flame seemed to leave the body of the cat taking the form of it in a slightly transparent form.

"Sissel?" Edgeworth yelped, startled. Sissel shrugged, a cat's grin spreading on his face.

"That is my name, yes. It's a pleasure to finally be able to exchange pleasantries, Miles Edgeworth. Now, if you want to stop your death, I think I'll need your help this time."

Chapter Text

If Sissel was being honest with himself, he had low hopes of finding his family again. Detective Jowd and Kamila were wonderful people and he had been looking forward to the vacation they were planning, but he had to agree with Alma when she claimed airport staff were the worst. First he'd ended up somehow in Seattle, then the attempt to send him home landed him somewhere in California. The latest trip had him fumbling out of the truck that was driving to the next airport and landing in the middle of the street, a fall that would have killed any normal cat. He hoped that whoever was in charge of all of this and the driver were fired.

So he had to figure out a way to the airport or a way home. The best way to do that was to ask for help, but his ability to communicate with the human populace was beyond limited. After spending an hour wandering, he decided to recuperate and concentrate on his next action, hiding inside an overly stuffed trashcan full of inedible food. Even his stray self wouldn't have partaken in the slop that sat at his feet. He'd need a new place to think.

As he prepared to jump out, however, a gunshot went off. Several in fact. He peered out of the trashcan to look around the area only to see a stuffy looking man in red fall over, dead. His dog, desperate to protect him, suffered a fatal injury as well before two unlikely allies dashed down the street to get away.

Not ten minutes later, a detective showed up, apparently called in because of the sounds of guns. When he saw the fallen man with his dog, however, all intentions of investigating vanished and the large man started bawling. "Mr. Edgeworth!" he yelled, grief striking him in a sure sign of familiarity.

Sissel watched from his trash can viewpoint and then back at the alley where the other man had fallen. Well there's a sure fire way to kill two birds with one cat he mused. He dropped his body back into the metal can to hide it as he let his spirit drift out.

Admittedly he was hesitant to perform the next step. When he first awoke to his gift, he'd used it however he wanted, running straight for his goal blindly in a determination to realize simply who he was. Thankfully everyone he saved was a good person, but working with his owner--Detective Jowd--had proven more than anything that saving people wasn't always the right decision. He'd significantly reduced any attempts of reversing time, to the point that this would be his first in almost five years.

The world around him dimmed slightly, just enough to let him know it worked. Not that Sissel doubted it. Over a decade in this body had granted him more power and control over his abilities. His soul drifted up to see the rest of the world, connecting himself to the top of the can. Three souls burned brightly, the blue flames hovering over their respective body. None seemed to be conscious--the flame state being one major proof.

He hopped from item to item until he approached the first spirit, the one in the alley. The man mumbled in his unconscious state but woke up pretty quickly, almost snapping at the beast before him as he realized he was dead.

"Why did they kill me? I had the money! The bastards!" the man hollered, reaching out spirit hands to grab the cat. Sissel jolted away, glaring at the spirit with zero enthusiasm. The man continued to rant and rave. Well, that wasn't going to get him any information. Next target.

The other two spirits were close enough that he tried to talk to both at the same time. The first remained unconscious, belonging to the red man. The other, unsurprisingly, was awake in no time at all. Animals had always been more ready to accept their fate than man.

The large brown and white mutt bounced to consciousness with sheer enthusiasm, a happy dog that clearly was well loved and well trained. It's happiness immediately dropped when she noticed her owner on the ground. "No! Miles!" she whimpered, her voice striking a familiar sad note from another pet Sissel once dealt with.

He rested a black paw on her body, patting her in comfort before clearing his throat. "Miss Dog? I may have a way to save you both."

The dog whipped her face around to look at the cat. "You do? Do it!" she barked, leaning over to lick the ghost feline enthusiastically. Sissel ducked his head, letting the tongue brush his fur a couple times before he dodged to the side and gently pushed her head away.

"I do, but I'm going to need you to pay attention as well. Give me a bit of information, and in return I need your help getting home."

"Home! I can get you home! What do you need to know?"

"Well, for starters, what can you tell me about the situation. I only caught the tail end of it all." Sissel gestured to the three bodies. The man in the alley had calmed down a bit as well, but before the cat spirit could make his way over, the dog growled.

"He's not a good man! I heard him talking about bad things."

"What kind of bad things?" Sissel asked, flicking his ear back.

"The kinds of bad things that makes Miles upset. Things that kill people." The dog growled louder, drawing the attention of the other spirit.

Well he certainly got acquainted with things that kill. Sissel purred idly. The dog was incredibly intelligent, considering. The view animals had in a human world was often disjointed, resulting in them not entirely understanding the situation--such as headbutting doors until they opened--but this creature had come up with a bridge between them. It was a rare enough perspective that Sissel couldn't help but appreciate it.

"Tell me more," Sissel asked with a flick of his tail.

The dog tilted her head to the side, arching an ear up. "We were on our daily walk when I heard some people say 'The evening approaches'. This didn't make sense, because I'm petty sure evening involves the sun setting, so I got curious but the rest of their conversation wasn't related to the evening. They started saying stuff about bringing the goods, the money, and making sure it was the right stuff." The animal glanced towards the spirit who was pacing around his own body. "I remember him saying 'you're sure this'll leave no trace?' and the others saying 'yes, they'll be dead and no one will have any idea what it was that killed your target.'" She snorted. "Miles would figure it out, though. He always figures it out. That's what Nick and Maya say."

Jowd could too, I bet. Sissel trotted away from the dog with a quick "just one moment." He stepped next to the other spirit who shot a glare at him.

"What, you here to take me to the underworld? Are you Death? Well, I won't go without a fight! I won't go down until I get my revenge!"

"You can," Sissel offered. "But first I need to know what you know. What were you meeting about?" The man hesitated and Sissel nudged him. "What have you to lose? You're already dead."

"Yeah, and that's why I wonder what you, Mr. Cheshire, could do about my situation." He narrowed his eyes at the feline. Greed and anger radiated from him. Sissel scanned down to the body, discarded before the transaction was completed. He was disposable, unnecessary and just a means to fund the murderers on their task. His own task was separate, a desire to kill someone without getting caught--or worse, framing someone else. He was motivated by his own selfish desires, if Sissel was right. Which meant if he knew what Sissel could do...

"Nothing. I guess. Sorry to bother you." He jumped away, his soul quickly skittering away from the man as he returned to his animal partner. At the inquiring look she gave him, Sissel shrugged. "He had nothing of value to add. But I will do what I can to help you at least." He bobbed his head. "I'm Sissel by the way."

The dog licked his head, tail speeding up in happiness. "Good! Let's help Miles. I'm Pess!"

Let's get started then. Sissel thought, gathering up the energy to turn back time, to four minutes before Miles and Pess died, to the slim space of time that he could save the two.

As the world warped around him, however, he saw a brief glimpse of two people coming around the corner. One of them, a blur of purple and black at this point, seemed to look right at him and Pess before vanishing into the folds of time.

*

"Well this is convenient," Sissel thought as he looked at the situation. He was on the glass bottles above the trashcan again. Immediately he could see the two men who had escaped standing in the alley and the other approaching. Miles and Pess weren't far behind.

"Hey, that's me!" Pess barked.

"Yes. We went back in time to before you died. It'll give us a chance to change the fut--wait Pess!" Too late. Pess had bounced off for her living self, barking at her and trying to warn her of the danger. He sighed dramatically, torn between getting more information or retaining the help the dog might provide.

"Pess!" Sissel repeated, bouncing from object to object until he caught up to the dog. "You can't talk to yourself. You can't really do anything to the real world."

Pess frowned, looking back and uncontrolled, oddly, by the need to possess objects to travel. "What do you mean? What could we do then?" She continued to nudge her living self.

Sissel flicked his tail, nudging his head back. "I can manipulate objects, so if we think about things carefully I can--" A yip cut him off, from the living Pess as the spirit one nipped her. Miles knelt down and soothed the living Pess without halting much in his progress.

Sissel's eyes widened and then he quickly glanced back to the trashcan. A quick estimate to where the dead bodies had been brought a whole new realization to him. Pess had died within range of the shard in his body. So had, in fact, Miles, but without the other spirit that hardly mattered. That meant powers. The question was what kind of powers and how could he use it?

Their time was limited, though he could always reverse time again. Getting as much information each loop as possible was essential as sometimes things he changed stuck and it was hard to reverse.

"Pess, how did you do that?" Sissel asked.

"Do what?" Pess trotted back and forth, through the living Miles and Pess.

"Did you just bite yourself?"

"Seems like it, but you said I couldn't?"

"Forget that. There may be an exception. How'd you do it?"

"I don't know. I just thought I wanted to get my attention, so I bit me and I reacted."

"Can you do the same with Miles?"

"No. I'm not allowed to bite Miles."

Sissel sighed heavily and then rolled his eyes. "Even if it'll save his life?"

"No biting Miles," Pess insisted.

"Okay, fine, we'll work with that. Let's see what else you can do. Follow me." He darted along from a street sign to a rock to a loose brick and then back to he bottles, eyeing the dog's freedom with jealousy as he returned to his body. "Bite me." He gestured to the cat inside.

Confused, Pess slipped inside and obliged. Immediately the other Sissel yelped in the trashcan and looked around for the source. Pess tried to apologize, but his past self couldn't see the traveling spirits. Instead, Sissel tugged the dog along to the next target.

"Bite one of the men now." Already time was running out, he noticed as they arrived. One of the men, the well dressed one, had pulled out a gun and things were going to go south quickly. Pess, thankfully, wasted no time jumping in and nipping the one with the gun in shoulder. He flinched, the shot going wild.

"What was that?" his partner hissed as their customer started to run. "Oh no you don't." He charged for the man, tackling him into the street and snapping back at his partner. "You idiot!"

The blonde man with the gun glanced about, slapping his shoulder and mumbling about a bee before hurrying after his friend, gun in hand. Sissel and Pess hurried out as well, worry filling the cat at the realization the fight reached the street. Miles and living Pess had stopped in the street at the sight of the tackle and the moment the blonde stepped out, gun in hand, the red suited man turned to run.

Not quick enough. A gun shot fired and he fell over, effectively pinning the trapped Pess. Ghost Pess started whining as she darted over to check on her master. More gun shots fired but Sissel's attention was on anything but that line of events. First loop failed. Time to try again.

*

This time, Sissel immediately reined in the worried Pess. She whined about wanting to save Miles and the cat had to show her the living Miles to get her to join him back in the alley. "You'll save him this time, right?" she asked, ears flattened. "I don't want to see him die again, Sissel."

Sissel studied the dog, sad brown eyes in a fluffy sad brown body, and sighed. "Yes. I'll stop it this time. No distractions." He stretched his lithe body and then hopped back to the trashcan, considering what he could do. The first two things that caught his attention were the trashcan and a loose sign hanging up. Testing the tin item, Sissel noticed it wiggle satisfactorily before testing the sign, which loosened dangerously with his antics. Good. Now what to do next.

The first gun shot sounded and Miles and Pess were at the entrance. Sissel shivered. If he had any intention of saving the other man, he likely lost it. But he needed to get Miles out of the way. He darted over, locking onto the leash that connected the dog to her owner.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as the men in the alley noticed Miles and Miles realized the situation he was in. Sissel tried to figure out how to get Miles to run--if only Pess would bite him!-- but floundered as he fidgeted with the leash.

The living Pess was freed from the leash, but didn't move. Sissel glanced down at the dog and then the leash. "Pess! Bite yourself!" he said, vaguely realizing the inanity of his statement. Thankfully the spirit dog was quick to react again, biting the living canine and making her jolt down the street.

Unfortunately, Miles didn't run after her like he planned. Instead, the man seemed to be contemplating just moving out of the way, as if hiding would help. Meowing in frustration, Sissel flung the leash, which began to wrap itself around Miles' legs with his hand as the pivotal point. The red suited man promptly fell with a cry of surprise, falling next to the chained up trash.

The men in the alley were rushing out, intent to remove all eye witnesses. "Bite one of those men, delay them," Sissel called out, though he ran to the metal can without checking to see if his partner listened. He attempted to topple the container over, but the chain held steady in his rolling. Instead, bottles fell into the path, shattering before them. He turned around just in time to see the blonde killer slam his foot down harder in reaction to a bite than intended, resulting in a large glass shard spiking through his foot.

Ouch. Sissel winced in sympathy but didn't hesitate. He promised to prevent Pess from having to witness the tragedy of losing her loved one again, and damnit if he didn't sympathize with that more.

Jumping to the board he waited as Pess continued to delay the blonde man a bit until his partner shoved him out of the way. The sign obeyed Sissel better than the trash and clattered to the ground loudly. As the cat spirit fell with it, he spotted Miles, starting to stand up and make himself visible. Bad human.

Moving back to the trash, he shoved it back into place, knocking over the man again and hiding him just as the two shooters stepped out, a nipping Pess in tow. As the men ran in the wrong direction--or right, depending on the perspective--Pess continued to bark at them angrily, daring them to come back.

Panting, she turned brightly back to the cat. "We did it!"

"We certainly did," Sissel agreed, though he looked back as he heard the voice of the man he just saved. "But we're not done yet. I have another trick up my sleeve, and I think we need to bring down these men."

Grabbing his dog partner, he jumped into the phone and made his way to the other end. If he was right, this was the man who had been distressed by Miles' dead body. The detective, meaning someone Sissel could work with confidently.

The two animals appeared on another street, the giant detective on the phone and confirming Miles' instructions. Sissel glanced around as Pess wagged her tail happily. "Oh! Detective! He's nice and gives me sausages whenever he shows up! Are we here to save him too?"

"No, we're here to stop the others. He survived the other time line. Warning, we have little time as we've already saved your life so this is our only shot."

Pess flashed him a puzzled look but nodded. Sissel gestured down the street. "Head that way and keep an eye out for either men, if we can find them we can chase them down."

The dog nodded and ran off, sniffing the air as she looked about. The detective shoved his phone in his pocket and began running as well. It was only a few moments before Pess returned, barking at the detective again. "There's blood! It smells like those bottles!"

"Good job, Pess! Bite his feet to get him to look down!" Sissel began to hop ahead to get an idea of what was going on as he heard the yelp and assumed the detective and dog were on their way.

Sure enough, ahead was the blonde man, limping as he hurried down the street, gun hidden. "Where did that bastard go?" he hissed, eyes wide with panic. Distressed and bleeding, most people took a wide berth to get out of his way, clearly worried he was insane.

That would help keep innocents out of the line of fire, at least. The feline jumped ahead to a cafe door and slammed it open when the blonde was in range. The would-be killer smacked into the glass, stumbling back with a glare. "Freaking glass! Is there some vendetta against me in the form of glass?" he snapped.

Amusing, but no.It's a vendetta in the form of a guardian dog and your friendly neighborhood ghost cat, Sissel mused, purring as he shot a glance back at the Detective, who was following the blood and frustratingly looking down.

The blonde stepped around the door but hesitated, contemplating going inside to rest. He looked down at his foot and then at the inviting cafe but shook his head, moving to an alleyway instead.

"No you don't," Sissel hissed darting over a few objects before he found the perfect one. Glass vendetta indeed, even if the glass itself wasn't the item that would thwart him. He toppled a stack of empty boxes in the alley, each stating "fragile" on the side as the blonde gasped in surprise, stumbling backwards and falling with his injured foot back into the street.

A towering Detective stepped over him, eyes wide before a delayed reaction had him pulling out his badge and shouting. "Freeze! This is the police!"

*

The best part of Sissel's rocky day had to be when he curled up in the large house of Miles Edgeworth, with a giant, warm, and furry friend wrapped around him. Exhausted from the work, he decided he'd worry later about the phone issue.

He was worried about his own family, true, but they were probably safer than he was right now. Besides, he couldn't really figure anything out until he could talk to someone, and Pess didn't count.

Instead, he had other things to think about. Like where the other killer went, what their objective was, and if he could even do anything about it. And then there was the mystery of the purple person. Did he imagine them? Or did they actually see him? Maybe he could communicate with them if they could see him.

It'd be a long trip home but he'd find a way.

Chapter Text

Sissel managed to gain a wealth of knowledge during his first few days in the Edgeworth Abode. The first was that the owner of the place was a prosecutor, which explained his familiarity with the detective who was apparently named Gumshoe. Miles was also a workaholic, going out early and coming home late even when he had no trial on his lap. He still set aside time to go out with Pess--and Sissel by tagalong-- most days, though the dog sitter also spent much time with the dog outside. Sissel stuck with Pess as well for now, talking with her to know more about where they were and what could be done about getting him home. Pess herself could do nothing but she was sympathetic to his situation, whining about the poor cat who lost his family.

"If I could talk to Miles, that'd make things much easier." Sissel stated as he curled up on the couch. Miles had taken up the chair with Pess laying on his feet, both enjoying the red suited man's day off.

"Oh? Can you do that? How? Can you teach me?" Pess wagged her tail, delighted at the idea of no doubt drowning Miles in love vocally. She already did that with barks and licks, after all.

"Unfortunately, I can't teach you. It has a lot to do with what I did earlier, when we met." Sissel tucked his feet under him, studying the brown ball of love. "And I don't think you'd appreciate how it'd come about to have me talk to him. As it similarly would involve my abilities to talk to the dead."

Pess shot to her feet, growling. "No! I refuse! Find someone else!"

"Calm down, Pess. I have no intention of killing anyone, much less the nice man who took me in and his friendly dog. I don't use people's lives as tools." Sissel remained still, though he had hunched down in case Pess didn't accept his response.

Miles, for his part, was trying to soothe her, petting and trying to locate the source of her distress. When the mutt plopped back down on his feet, rolling into him slightly, he seemed content to return to his book.

"Really?" Pess asked, not denying him just wanting clarification.

"Really. That being said, if anything happens, I will be around to help. And not just because it'll be another chance to talk to him."

"But won't that be difficult? Talking to him while saving his life?"

"The connection remains open. Or, well it's complicated." Sissel closed his eyes, thinking of another time and another adventure. It had been the longest night of his life, but in many ways the beginning of his current one.

Conversation continued idly, Pess asking about his family with interest and boundless energy matched only by the other pup in Sissel's life. Early afternoon, all three were startled out of their comfortable reverie by insistent knocking, to some invisible song judging by the rhythmic beats that repeated until Edgeworth managed to untangle himself from Pess and open the door. Sissel slipped away to spy on the newcomers from around the corner.

The people at the door stepped inside, seeming to ignore Edgeworth's wishes as they brought in wine and a video. Even though the silver hair man blustered at their intrusion, his posture was relaxed and the arguments felt more rote than sincere. These two were friends with the reclusive prosecutor. Amused, Sissel slid over to another hiding place, lurking under the couch with his eyes glittering as the guests began to set up a DVD.

One of them was a man about Edgewoth's age, clad in blue pants and a faded t-shirt with a cracked image of some mechanical monkey. He seemed to be a bit of a pushover by the way the other was bossing him around, but incredibly easygoing as he laughed off most of the young lady's orders.

The other was a young woman in strange purple robes she wore more comfortably than anyone in a costume would. Almost instantly he felt a connection, a draw to her as if she held a more significant role in this world than her small, childish presence would typically portray. She bossed around both the man, who she called Nick, and Edgeworth despite being much younger than either of them.

Her instructions were simple, fortunately, and quickly Nick and the woman were watching a strange show while their host cooked. Sissel snorted, crawling out from under the couch to rejoin Pess and Edgeworth in the kitchen. Hopping up on a stool, Sissel flicked an ear back towards the two guests. "Interesting people."

"Mr. Nick and Miss Maya! They're Miles' friends! They like to show up and bother him, but he likes it! He's been much happier since they met!" Pess announced without taking her pleading eyes off of her owner, committed in her mission to get scraps. Sissel chuckled, his purr vibrating through his body.

"I can tell. What's with... What'd you call her? Miss Maya? Her outfit is interesting."

"Yeah! I forget why, but I think it has to do with her home? Never not seen her in it, but it's nice and warm and fun to curl up in!" Pess wagged her tail excitedly.

Sissel shook his head slowly, content to watch Edgeworth while idly listening to the chatter in the other room. A bit later, Maya slipped in again to complain about how long the food was taking. Partway through the conversation, however, she spotted Sissel and immediately swept him into her arms. Used to the treatment, as most people seemed to think cats were meant to be picked up at a whim, Sissel just sighed and curled into the hold to be a bit more comfortable. "Well then, Sissie, you want to watch the Pink Princess with us?" she asked as she carried him out of the room.

Once in the next room, she thrusted Sissel out to Mr. Nick. "Look! Edgeworth got a new cat!"
Sissel was quite sure that Edgeworth had explained he wasn't Sissel's owner, but that didn't seem to matter to his current captor.

"A cat? He didn't seem the type." Nick reached a hand up, scratching behind Sissel's ear. Despite himself, Sissel leaned into it. "Set him down, Maya. You're not supposed to carry cats like that."

Maya harumphed and stuck her tongue out at the spiky haired man before plopping herself onto the couch and then sliding off comically. Once on the floor, she pinned Sissel in her lap, petting him enthusiastically and explaining the show to him as if he had an interest.

"The connection I felt must've been a warning," Sissel whined as he attempted to escape every so often, jolting ineffectively into the air and being dragged back. He gave up, slumping into her hold as he studying the wall ahead of him.

Sweet freedom came when Edgeworth joined the group in the living room, Sissel dashing away from Maya onto the back of the couch the moment she was distracted by the smell of food. He flicked his tail angrily for a few seconds before sighing and relaxing into contentment. The group bantered as Sissel watched them. Maya was already digging into her food with voracity. Partway, however, she seemed to remember him and looked up into his eyes.

"Oh no," Sissel said before darting off the couch. Cat body met human leg, however and he found himself hunching down as a large body tilted towards him and then onto the couch. Instead of groans of pain or worse, fortunately, laughter erupted. Sissel looked back to find the humans tangled together from Sissel's accidental trap.

Forgotten, Sissel slipped away for the rest of the evening.

*

The sound of scratching at the front door woke Sissel up from the couch one night. He jolted his head up, familiar with the jostling of someone picking a lock. "Intruder," he hissed before darting off the furniture and into the hallway to warn his roommates. He caught Edgeworth's door opening as a sleepy man and anxious dog walked out of the room. Catching the dog's eyes, Sissel nodded towards the entrance.

"I heard intruders," Pess growled.

"They're picking the lock. Pess," Sissel hesitated, talking a deep breath. "We need to make a quick plan. If the worst should happen and we need to repeat what happened when we met, I want a signal."

"A signal?"

"Your ability, to pinch others. We need to come up with a code. Something simple and quick."

"Like go forward!" Pess nodded, though her attention was only half there.

"Yes. Simple. Bite a front paw if you want us to hold back, a back paw if you want us to go forward quickly. Tail if forward but slowly." Sissel tilted his head. That'd be easy, right?

"Miles doesn't have a tail."

"He doesn't know the code. If we can tell him, we'll modify it then." The cat crouched down as Edgeworth did. Pess seemed satisfied with this explanation, lowering her own body as well.

"I'll go first," Sissel explained, jumping down and slinking along the dark corridor. Pess silently growled, soft eyes asking him to be safe as he went on his mission. He didn't make it far before he saw the invader, gun in his hand. They locked eyes, a brief flash of familiarity going through the cat until he was distracted by a leg going towards him. Jumping back, Sissel pinned himself to the wall and waited for the gun, now pointed at him, to fire.

Instead a brown blur launched itself in between them, taking a bullet to her side before she tackled the intruder. Pess growled, pinning her victim with ferocity that was completely different from her usual innocently gentle personality. "Do not touch my friend," the dog barked.

A fist came up from the man, slamming into the dog's wound and making her cry out in pain and crumpling down. He scrambled to his feet just in time to see a startled and scared Edgeworth arrive. Wide silver eyes took in his injured pet and he involuntarily let out a strangled cry for the dog before desperately grabbing a nearby vase and launching it at the intruder. Edgeworth charged the man after the vase, desperate but it was all in vain as another shot blasted into the air. Sissel yelped as Edgeworth fell, running forward as if he could help. The intruder callously turned his gun to the animals, cold emotion locking onto the animals before two more bangs sounded.

*

Sissel saw red, his body vibrating angrily as he watched the intruder leave, his ghost detached from the black form on the ground. He could easily just rejoin it, but he had no intention. Sissel always hated seeing strangers die, had been driven to help them even when he had no recollection of who he was--though he was also motivated by trying to find that out. Friends, especially friends like Pess if he was honest, dying was the worst. Maybe it was an abuse of his power, but there was no way he was going to let this stand. Not after Pess tried to save him.

The cat turned his attention to the floating spirits, one already taking form and whining. Pess bounded over, unbound by the need to possess objects. Still whimpering, she rubbed her head against the cat. "Sissel! They took you too! No." She howled loudly. "We need to fix this! We need to save you and Miles! You two can't die."

Sissel raised a paw to her muzzle, patting gently before pulling back. "It's fine, I can go back, remember?"

Dark eyes studied him, clouded with worry. "Even if you're dead?"

Now was probably not an appropriate time to explain he'd always been dead, just animating his corpse that was suspended in time. Instead, Sissel nodded. "Let's make sure all three of us make it through this."

Time twisted around them again, rewinding and bringing them along for the ride. Four minutes spun backwards, before stopping at the sound of the intruder opening the door. Sissel and Pess growled at the man momentarily before the dog ran off to check on her master. The cat stayed, watching as a specter, determined to find out as much as possible of their bad guy before they sprung into action. A mask slipped over the face, but Sissel focused on remembering it, a tickling in the back of his head that said the man was familiar, but different.

It was the man from when Sissel first met Edgeworth, the one who looked ragged and unkempt. Except, he clearly cleaned up. The muscle he hid under baggy clothes was much more defined in the tighter black clothes. The criminal moved with a certain grace that spoke of experience in home invasion, as well, even if he looked less than sure about himself. Or maybe it was something else that was distracting him. A whispered voice spoke from behind the mask, making the ghost cat have to lean forward to pick it up. "Made it in, as promised. Vengeance will be ours. Don't worry."

Who was he talking to? Sissel's tail flicked dangerously, considering the implications. Was it his old partner? Himself? Or a third entity?

The creak of a door startled both Sissel and the intruder, reminding the spirit that he had a job to do and a few lives to save. He bounced from object to object--a cellphone next to a teapot, a picture frame, the DVD Maya had left behind, a vase and so on--before he arrived at the hallway with the living (sort of) trio and their ghost guardian dog. The invisible canine wagged her tail excitedly.

"Sissel! You save our lives yet?"

"Working on it Pess, but I'll need your help." He glanced back towards the hallway again and then to his past self. The conversation that had taken place not long before was clearly bouncing between the two pets. "First hold me back, front paw. We need to stop me from going first."

"Got it!" The dog easily trotted over and nipped at past Sissel's foot, watching the cat jump slightly back in surprise before an amused grin flicked across his face.

It was almost surreal, realizing the Sissel before him understood some of the connotations going on while being unable to see it. Or could he? If he dislodged his own spirit now, while one from the future floated about, could they interact? Switch places? Sissel's ability to manipulate bodies had thus far been limited to himself--unlike Yomiel's which grew with time. Not that he minded, as manipulating objects had been more akin to his preferences.

Sissel had spent too long in his thoughts, left Pess alone in trying to save her master for too long to stop her from acting hastily. He jumped in surprise as he saw the ghost dog nip her past self into launching ahead, having assumed if Sissel didn't go she would have to instead. The cat called out in futility as the dog dashed forward. He ran after her as quickly as possible, moving from the frame to the DVD and then stopping when he heard the gunshot ring out again and Pess fall over. Sissel moved closer, hopping onto the vase and hissed at the shooter who simply nudged aside the dog with one foot, more careful now that the shot guaranteed Edgeworth was awake and aware of an intruder.

"Miles, don't go!" Pess yelped from around the corner. Sissel paid no mind. He was going to make this criminal pay for killing the dog twice, and showing blatant disregard for the dead. Sissel knew he was going to reverse time again already, but he'd take the moment to get information and a bit of satisfaction first.

As Edgeworth turned the corner, crouched low, the shooter took aim and Sissel reacted immediately, toppling the vase he was connected to over, hoping to shake the man long enough for Edgeworth to get out of the way or take him down.

Except something changed. For a brief moment, the vase seemed to grow in size, from big enough to comfortably hold a dozen long stem roses to the size of an adult human. It slammed into the invader with far more force as a result, pinning him tot he ground before the shards shrunk down again to normal size. The incident happened so fast, Sissel almost didn't believe it, but a flicker of yellow eyes to the blue flame he'd left in the corner had him hesitate.

The flame had taken a slightly human form, still vague an unaware of who it was but also visibly angry and distraught, staring at the fallen canine. Sissel held his breath, waiting to see if Edgeworth's ghost would speak.

A torn voice snapped Sissel's attention back, however, to the other Edgeworth. Tears held back by anger were visible on the prosecutor's face as he knelt over the man, mask already discarded. "Why?" the man growled, his voice breaking over the single syllable. "Why did you do this?"

The man rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I have no reason to tell you anything, Prosecutor." He spat the word out like it was a curse. A snarl formed on his face, twisting into an inhuman smile. "But if I were you I'd watch my back." He flicked a glance to the porcelain shards around him, a slightly confused expression blinking into existence for a moment. It disappeared immediately, but Sissel could imagine what it meant. 'What is with all this glass protection?' Or something to that effect.

Sighing, the ghost moved to rejoin Pess who seemed satisfied that she'd saved Edgeworth and Sissel. The cat tapped his free-range partner. "Come on, let's go back again."

Pess flashed a shocked look at Sissel. "Why? Miles is safe. You're safe. We won!"

"But you're not." Sissel swished his tail in frustration. Pess tilted her head in confusion.

"And? I don't want to risk losing either of you just to save myself, Sissel." She drooped her ears and tail, slouching in defeat. "I'm okay with this. I don't need to be saved."

"Neither of us are okay with this, though," Sissel growled, gesturing to the living Edgeworth, still barely holding back his grieving, and then the vague Edgeworth-shaped ghost. "Not Edgeworth, not me. We are going back. We will save you as well, no matter how many times it takes."

Pess dipped her head again, looking at her master's two forms and the sad cat before she nodded. "Let's go then."

*

When they went back, Sissel was not surprised to see that some things had fundamentally changed. Messing with the timeline always caused oddities and sometimes his influence became permanent even when he went back again. Usually, it was for the best, but even if it wasn't he'd work around it. The shadowed image of a Pess ghost nipping at Sissel's feet, and then likely Pess' to direct them was evidently such a change. The feline specter nodded at Pess. "We will stick to you going forward, since that worked, but I'll come help too. When you hear a loud noise--any noise-- bite my feet to make me go forward. I'll be your backup."

"What are you going to do?"

"Stop you without stopping your results, hopefully." Sissel jumped ahead, taking the now familiar path of frame, DVD, vase, and waiting a few moments. He turned to the spirit in the corner, still only in the conceptual shape of a human, and prayed it'd help somehow.

It was only moments later when Pess ran around the corner, all protectiveness and fury as she went to launch herself at the man steadying a gun at her. Sissel toppled the vase again, this time aiming for having it block the bullet by knocking the dog down for a moment. A pained noise from the spirit had Sissel widen his eyes as the vase seemed to change colors, darkening in the room to almost appear black. The noise of the bullet colliding sounded closer to metal than glass, but it lasted only a moment before the vase changed again, back to it's white-and-blue colors as Pess was struck down. Water and glass shattered around the canine, but she seemed to be alive.

Not that Sissel had any chance to check before his own form came dashing in with more bravery than Sissel really gave himself. The living cat vaulted onto the criminal's face and his spirit self purred in satisfaction. Bastard deserved every scratch.

Edgeworth reacted quickly this time, likely because Pess was still alive and action ongoing. While the invader was tossing aside the black furry weapon, the prosecutor managed to reach for the gun and bowl them both over in the process. A brief wrestling match ensued, where the unnamed assailant started to play dirty by throwing in punches. Surprise, surprise.

Sissel jumped through objects before landing by the phone next to the teapot. How on earth was he going to do this? Experience told him that trying to interact with the teapot wouldn't do what it did with the vase and the phone wasn't much better, though he tried anyway. The phone vibrated under his power, even shaking the teapot but not enough to effect anything.

As he tried vibrating the phone again, however, once more the not-quite-Edgeworth ghost seemed to react, understanding instinctively what he could do and causing the phone to grow in size and thus vibrations. Both the teapot and the phone fell, the latter shrinking back to normal size during the drop.

The sound of fighting ending and the sight of Edgeworth sitting up made the cat sigh in relief. He bounced through a few objects, his path altered by the amount of items he dropped, and spared an amused glance at the broken teapot--they did have a thing for breaking glass, didn't they?

"Did we do it?" Pess asked, bouncing about as Edgeworth hurriedly checked on Pess while the other Sissel sat up the also check on them.

"I believe so." Sissel nodded, though he still had his concerns.

Someone was after Edgeworth; someone was plotting to take down the prosecutor for reasons unknown. Did it start when they caught this man's partner or before that? Who was on the radio with this assailant? Who was the first dead guy's original target?

The only thing Sissel was sure of was that Edgeworth wasn't out of harms way yet. And he had to get to the bottom of this, save the man from whatever conspiracy aimed for his head. And, with luck, get home in the process.

*

Unfortunately, the next attack left Sissel in dire need of assistance. He'd begun following Edgeworth discreetly to work, sneaking into the car or his bag and using his powers to follow the prosecutor up to the twelfth floor--often arriving sooner than the red suited man since Sissel had no issues using elevator. Pess stayed at home, valiant guardian of the household.

It was a bit boring, curling up in a random hiding spot while listening to the almost methodical scratching of pens and shuffling of papers. Occasionally, Edgeworth would take a phone call, and at least once a day he'd go out, causing Sissel to resume his own trek down to the car before Edgeworth arrived. It quickly became a routine. A boring routine, but Sissel didn't want to take risks.

His patience was rewarded--in the grimmest of ways--when Edgeworth ended a phone call, before clearing his throat roughly. The noise sounded off, bringing Sissel's head up as he watched Edgeworth take a long drink of his tea. His skin color looked off, almost blue on his already pale face. Adjusting the ruffles on his neck, Edgeworth began to cough slightly. One last rueful glance at his tea was the last action he managed before he slumped over. And never rose again.

Sissel jumped onto the chess board nearby to get a better look, watching as a blue flame rose from the body, slowly shifting forms to a human one. By the time the spirit took on the appearance of his associated corpse, three people had arrived to confirm his death, all his friends and all distraught. Watching them, knowing what he meant to them and the dog at home that trusted Sissel to protect Miles... Sissel knew saving Edgeworth was the right action.

He turned to the other ghost in the room, seeing the pain painted plainly on the prosecutor's face. Good, Sissel wasn't sure if he could do this alone. "You're awake this time. That'll make things so much easier." Edgeworth turned to the cat as Sissel quickly made his body comfortable before vacating it. His choked off name had Sissel chuckling before nodding. "That is my name, yes. It's a pleasure to finally be able to exchange pleasantries, Miles Edgeworth. Now, if you want to stop your death, I think I'll need your help this time."

Chapter Text

Maya's eyes burned and her head thumped angrily, but nothing could compare to the pain of seeing Edgeworth--her stuffy but affectionate friend--slumped face down on his desk, paler than normal and not breathing. Well, there was one pain, a few years ago with her sister, but nothing she physically felt held a candle to those incidents. She hiccupped, trying to swallow around her sobs.

Nick had left her side momentarily, going to discuss with Gumshoe about some details and no doubt developing a case or consoling the giant of a man as well. Maya curled in on herself, missing the warm touch of Nick's hand already. It was proof of life in the face of death before her.

Voices conversed around her in hushed tones. She almost ignored them, figuring more officers were coming into the room, until she realized one was a distinct, posh tone that she never expected to hear again. The spirit channeller shot up, looking at the man on his desk. Nope, still dead. Maya felt sick to her stomach, but the voices didn't quiet.

"..comprehend how you could reverse this," Edgeworth mumbled. Maya glanced around, clutching her magatama. She settled her sights on an image of her late friend, the image portrayed as if he had a blue, translucent filter placed over him. Her breath caught as she realized what she was seeing. His ghost was standing--or floating--over his chair. Which shouldn't have been possible. Ghosts needed guidance to return to form, especially this soon after death.

Maya's mind spun with trying to recall lessons. Sometimes ghosts would remain behind, a flickering flame, but that usually was a result of some kind of power or... Something. She couldn't quite recall what. But they never took form and she'd never heard them talk without being channelled. Yet there he was, gaze pained and face raw with grief, as he talked to someone.

"Edgeworth?" she whispered, drawing the attention of the ghost, whose expression turned sympathetic before twisting into surprise at her looking at him rather than his body.

"Miss Fey?" he asked as she reached a hand out to him, curious if she could touch him.

"Wait. Can she see you? Us?" the other voice asked, making her seek out its owner. Her eyebrows rose past her bangs in surprise, mouth dropping. On the couch was Edgeworth's cat, curled up and comfortable. On the chessboard, however, sat a transparent version of said cat. His body seemed to be encasing a single blue, spiky pawn.

"You died too, Sissel?" she questioned, hesitant. The cat snorted.

"It’s a complicated explanation. Not today, no. Let’s just say I’m less attached to my body than the average creature. Now, more importantly, how can you see us?"

"Spirit Channeller," Edgeworth responded, folding his arms before him as he fell more comfortably into the role of puzzle-solver.

Maya nodded in response, though she shot a glance at Nick and Gumshoe. They knew of her abilities, but wasn't sure yet if she wanted to explain this to them when she barely knew what was going on.

"Huh. Never met one of you. I mean, I've heard of your existence, but this encounter is a first."

"Likewise," Maya replied, bowing slightly.

"Amusing as this is, we should return to our earlier discussion," Edgeworth mumbled, raising an eyebrow at the spirit and spirit channeller. He appeared out of his depth and Maya couldn't help but chuckle. For the first time ever, she was in the know and not the intellectual prosecutor.

"We're not in any rush, necessarily," Sissel said. "Short version is I can reverse time and prevent deaths. Some, so long as they land within my capabilities."

"Your capabilities?" Edgeworth inquired.

"I have a few tricks up my sleeves," Sissel replied.

"You don't have any sleeves though!" Maya protested, getting a confused look from Nick. She nodded at his question if she was okay, shooing him off before hurrying to the couch for a quieter conversation.

Sissel, for his part, was laughing. "Yes, I suppose I don't. I have a few tricks up my fur then. As does Edgeworth, if things went right. Though his would be up his sleeves instead."

"Or his ruffles."

Sissel nodded with more solemnity than her joke warranted, resulting in her chuckling again, muffling the sound with her hand. The smile on the cat's face made her think he enjoyed making her laugh. "Anyway, using the tricks we have, we can manipulate objects to interfere with whatever our bad guys have planned, after we go back in time that is. Or, we actually can use them now really. For example." In explanation his body moved, sliding over a single square on the chess board.

No, it was the pawn that moved. He seemed to be possessing it, moving with it. Maya and Edgeworth's eyes widened with surprise.

"So wait, you're like a poltergeist? From the movies? Do you and your ghost friends haunt others?" Maya held a hand before her face, wondering how many ghost movies were real, now.

Sissel slumped down slightly. "Uh, no, not like the movies. And I'm the only one that I know of that can do this, or anything really. The conditions to getting powers are incredibly strict and all the others I've met who received powers had their lives saved. Present company excluded." The cat nodded his head to Edgeworth who frowned.

"I can move pawns?"

"It’s more than just moving pawns,” Sissel stated indignantly. “But no. Each spirit has a different trick Pess, for example, can pinch others and travel freely."

"You mean Pess died?" Edgeworth choked off.

"She's fine, now Edgeworth," Sissel hurriedly replied, holding his paws up in a soothing gesture. "And not the point right now. Anyway, spirits can perform tricks that vary depending on the spirit themselves. I can manipulate objects and travel through phone lines. You seemed to be able to make objects grow in size. All spirits, thus far that have tried, can go back in time to four minutes before a corpse's death."

Maya screwed her face up in sorrow again. "But Edgeworth's been dead for longer than four minutes."

"You weren't listening, Miss Fey. He said 'four minutes before the corpse died." Edgeworth looked skeptical but he glanced ruefully at his own body on the desk. "Meaning I could've died hours ago and he'd go back those same hours, plus four minutes." Sissel nodded in confirmation. "Is there a limit?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but I'm not willing to make the same big jump I did before. Too many changes and I'm quite satisfied with my life as it is. Missing family excluded, but we can work that out after this situation." Sissel tilted his head curiously, flicking an ear. "We are in a unique position, though. It's been a long time since I've had a living being I could instruct while working. Maya, would you mind helping us out?"

"Uh, sure, but aren't you going back in time?"

Edgeworth seemed to catch the cat's idea before she did, waving a finger at her as a grin finally crossed his face. "We can do that any time, but perhaps we can find information to help us first. Let's investigate this area."

Maya nodded. Investigate. She could do that, did it often with Nick. Knowing it was to save Edgeworth rather than avenge him made the pain soften in her heart. "So, do you know what killed you?"

"Poisoned tea," both ghosts replied without hesitation.

"Right." Maya turned immediately to the cup beside Edgeworth's corpse. Nope, too disturbing. She shivered, glancing at the prosecutor's spirit. Knowing she could save him made it easier, but knowing he died still hurt, too. However, if his tea was poisoned then something besides the cup should have traces.

Swiping up the kettle resulted in a shout of "Maya!" and “Miss Fey!” from two voices again, this time Nick and Edgeworth. Sheepishly, she held the kettle with both hands.

"Yes?" she asked, glancing between the two men.

"You're contaminating a crime scene!" Edgeworth grumbled.

"Gloves!" Phoenix stated. "Don't touch anything without gloves. Actually, we probably shouldn't touch anything until the cops do their own sweep."

"Probably?" Edgeworth protested, his question unheard by the spiky haired lawyer.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Maya mumbled, pouting. She diligently pulled out latex gloves she kept for crime scenes in her robes. "If we reverse time and stop this, my fingerprints won't matter."

"Until then, we can't have you damaging what little information we have," Edgeworth explained with his usual scowl.

"Unless you polish the pot every day, I doubt my fingerprints aren't already on it, anyway," Maya added, sighing and then laughing softly to herself. Phoenix flashed a worried expression at his assistant. "You do clean it every day, don't you?"

"Of course," Edgeworth replied.

Maya shot Nick a sympathetic look. He was stricken, eyes red and tears barely held back. Crazy sounding or not, he deserved to know the truth. With a deep breath, Maya snatched the tea cup without glancing at it's late owner and dashed out of the room with her usual cheer. It wasn't entirely real, but that didn't stop it from being effective in drawing Nick after her as she beckoned to him. "Come on! We need to get these tested for poison!"

*

Sissel twitched an ear as he watched the medium leave before turning to Edgeworth. "Your friends are nice."

The man flushed in embarrassment, coughing into one hand before responding. "Yes, well, they certainly have their uses." Edgeworth faced the exit soberly. The detective was standing guard over the room, back stiff but shaking with light sobs.

"Come on, we have our own objectives," Sissel said, drawing the prosecutor's attention. At the inquiring silver eyebrow, the cat dove into another explanation, briefly describing how to move from object to object. He lacked the freedom of Pess, but that hardly surprised Sissel. Both dog spirits he’d dealt with had been the most free, Pess exceptionally so.

Fortunately, moving came quickly to Edgeworth. Unfortunately, that didn't apply to his ability. To be fair, that detail seemed to stump both of them. Sissel focused on the pawn he'd moved before on the table for show. "I'm not entirely sure how, I just know you made it bigger. When I had my trick explained, it came almost naturally from then on."

"You said there were conditions for powers?" Edgeworth inquired, moving between two pieces as if pacing.

"Yeah, die close enough to me," Sissel said. "Or a giant meteor in another city."

"Perhaps I wasn't close enough? Do you know the exact distance?"

"Not exactly. I don't really like just killing people off to test these things," Sissel sighed. "I was pretty sure we were close enough, but I'll admit that it's possible. If so, though, we're left a bit handicapped."

"We may not need it," Edgeworth muttered. "Once Miss Fey returns, we'll have more information. Let’s focus on what we do know or can figure out. Who would have wanted to do this?" The prosecutor seemed to be talking mostly to himself, still "pacing" between objects. "I've made a fair amount of enemies, so limiting the potential suspects seems difficult without knowing more."

"What if it's related to your previous two deaths?" Sissel moved through objects until he possessed the chair Edgeworth's body was in. When he turned back, Edgeworth's frown was deeper than normal.

"Two? Sissel, please explain."

"The first was how we met. Two thieves in an alley? You'd died originally, but Pess and I went back to save you and help catch the thief. Pess distracted them while I knocked things over in their path." Sissel purred slightly, amused by the scenarios. "The next was the home invasion. All three of us worked on that, but you weren't completely conscious so that's why you don't remember."

"And the second one was the guy we missed from the first crime. Two deaths, connected to partners. But both were arrested, so how could they possibly have done this?"

"There was someone the second man was talking to on the radio, I think, but I don't know who. What did you glean from their trials?" The cat remembered one of them, vaguely, but trials were so boring that he fell asleep during them.

"They're criminals part of an organization that sells poison and medicine in equal parts." Edgeworth shrugged as he recalled the details. "Poison fits with what we know but the vials contained a particularly unique poison. Kills quick, disappears quick."

"Which means if Maya comes by with nothing in either the tea pot or cup..."

"Then we have the right poison. But how did he poison me? I've been in my room for hours and the only visitor was Gumshoe" Arms folded again, the man tapped a finger on his elbow as he pondered the possibilities.

"We have a problem!" Maya shouted as she entered the room. Gumshoe and the two police officers that had started checking out the room jumped at the return of the defense attorney and his assistant. "Mr. Edgeworth was not poisoned!"

"At... At least not through his tea cup or kettle," Phoenix corrected. The spiky haired man was looking around the room airily while Maya pushed in without a care for procedure. "There were also no fingerprints besides Edgeworth's, Gumshoe's and Maya's."

"This confirms our theory, then," Edgeworth mumbled.

"But then how?" Sissel wondered. "We may not figure that out until we head back in time."

"Uh, sir? I found something odd." One officer was crouched by the window, interrupting their thoughts as he inspected the glass. Edgeworth jumped across objects to get as close as possible, with Sissel on his heels. When the others joined, a crowded group found themselves staring at a small hole in the glass as if...

"A sniper?" Phoenix questioned. "But Edgeworth has no visible wounds."

"Unless, what they shot wasn't the man," Sissel mumbled, startled when Maya echoed his words with a knowing glance.

"The tea? A pellet of poison at just the right moment?" Edgeworth hummed slightly and Maya paraphrased his statement for the others.

"That sounds awfully complicated to pull off," Gumshoe grumbled, rubbing his head in confusion. "Why not just shoot Mr. Edgeworth directly? Not that I want him..." The giant sniffed loudly and rubbed at his face with his dirty sleeve.

"Because they're sending a message," Sissel and Edgeworth realized together. The cat nodded at the prosecutor. "Making sure the right people know who took you out."

"Indeed. I think it's time to confront these criminals."

"Thank everyone for us," Sissel stated, nodding at Maya, before dragging the other ghost back to the corpse and pulling back time once again.

*

To be honest, Edgeworth spent much of the conversation trying to suspend his disbelief. Even in the face of being an actual ghost, he was struggling with coming to terms with all Maya and Sissel--his cat, who could talk apparently--said. He understood what was being outlined, could even fake rolling with it as best he could, but quite frankly there was a part of him who didn't believe it. Perhaps it was a dream or a new twist on the "life flashing before your eyes" concept. Instead of seeing his life playing out like a movie, he was creating something of a scenario for what happens after death.

He no longer felt held down by that skepticism when the world transformed around him. The changes weren't much, just a few items shifting and people vanishing, but seeing his living form just aligned all of his thoughts at last.

A spirit moved beside him, quickly getting to work by floating from object to object, a little blue flame that shook a few select items as if testing his limits in the office. Sissel eventually made his way to the window, or as close as he could get through the assorted items, and purred happily. “Good, no bullet hole yet, which means we still have a chance to save you. With poison, it can be tricky to prevent.”

The living Edgeworth was on the phone, talking to Phoenix and trying to insist the lawyer not bother him on such a busy day. Knowing that the defense attorney wouldn’t listen was both heartwarming and annoying. “So what do we do to stop it?” the ghost prosecutor asked his feline companion.

“I’m not entirely sure, but we aren’t limited to just one rewind. If we fail the first time, we can try again. As often as necessary.”

“Then, I suggest we watch. Obtain as much knowledge as we can.”

“Are you okay with seeing yourself die?” Sissel asked, not bothered, simply curious. Edgeworth shifted uncomfortably. Of course he wasn’t okay with seeing himself die, but what he was okay with hardly mattered in the pursuit of truth. Accepting Edgeworth’s silence as an answer, the cat hopped back over to the dead prosecutor, watching the window from their place on Edgeworth’s desk. “Who are you talking to, by the way?”

“Wright. He was on his way here to drop off a gift of sorts.”

“So he’d be with Maya, yes?”

“Naturally. I recall hearing her shouting through the line.”

“That’s great. We can enlist her help too if we need it.”

“I doubt she can hear us from here. Even if she could, what could she do to help? I doubt I’d listen to her telling me not to drink tea, thinking it just a prank.”

“We’ll see. I did mention I could travel through phone lines.”

He had, now that Edgeworth thought about it. Trying to process everything, that detail had apparently escaped Edgeworth’s mind. Either he was losing his touch or this whole concept really was difficult for him to grasp. Far removed from the realm of reality, yet it was his reality now. “Still, I don’t think she can help, for all that talking to her is a boon. I’m disinclined to listen to those two, if you haven’t noticed.”

“At least on the surface,” Sissel teased. “Well, it at least helps to keep it in mind. Perhaps they’ll be able to help us with something involving this case.”

“Perhaps,” Edgeworth agreed, though he remained skeptical.

Three minutes in, while the living prosecutor was thoroughly distracted by his companions, the ghosts witnessed the bullet hit the tea cup, a small hole in the glass forming. Half a minute later, Edgeworth finally hung up the phone and then sipped from his cup. Then, he rapidly started choking before collapsing on his desk, tea spilling onto the wood and paper. Four minutes in, death claimed its victim.

“It’s simple then,” Edgeworth noted. “We need to remove the tea from the equation. Specifically what’s in the cup.”

“How do you plan to do that? I already tried shifting the cup and all it does is shake slightly. Nothing on your desk is useful for blocking or knocking it over.”

Both spirits glanced around the room, impeccably kept with little to mess with in order to buy time. Could Sissel knock the books on the shelf over? No, objects act in ways that make sense to the objects, like swinging a rope or wiggling a tea cup, but a snug book on the shelf wouldn’t budge. Knocking the statue in Edgeworth’s room was also a no-go, even at the risk of the prosecutor’s life. The chess pieces could move but wouldn’t be enough to be a distraction. The same applied to the desk lamp.

“Do you really have to keep a gaudy outfit up on your wall?” Sissel muttered as they continued to scan the room. Edgeworth didn’t respond, merely scoffing at the question.

The door opened and a familiar trio stepped in, the scene of discovering their friend’s body once more unraveling. “Shall we go back again?” Sissel questioned, glancing at the prosecutor and clearly seeing the pain on his face. Seeing himself die was uncomfortable, but watching his friends grieve was unbearable.

“Let’s,” Edgeworth agreed, still watching the three as time spun backwards.

“I have an idea,” Sissel stated once they settled back into the room. “I’m not positive it will work, but it’s worth a try.”

The world snapped back into focus, held momentarily frozen before movement returned in a flash, as if someone pressed play on a movie. The scene unfolded as before: Edgeworth on the phone, tea waiting to be poisoned. “We have about three minutes, but waiting is all we can do until then,” Sissel explained as he jumped from object to object before settling on the cup itself.”

Edgeworth hummed slightly, observing the situation. Sissel already said he couldn’t tilt the cup enough to spill it. But what if he… “Ah, that’s what you’re doing,” the man muttered. Honestly, if Edgeworth could use the supposed ‘trick’ Sissel mentioned, that’d be the easiest. Changing the size of the tea cup would wreck all kinds of havoc, not least of which would be a bewildered living Edgeworth, but the concept was hard to wrap his head around. He wasn’t much for imagination, his mind only really able to produce the image of a balloon growing as air filled it. That was changing sizes, wasn’t it?

Still, as three minutes ticked by, this was the only method they could think of, given what little they had to go with. The living version of him picked up the cup, poison successfully shot and Sissel still a blue flame floating above it. The cup tipped at the behest of the cat’s trick, hot drink spilling onto the prosecutor’s pants. Ghost Edgeworth winced as his living self jolted up in a panic. His poor suit.

Edgeworth’s living counterpart was quick to grab a cloth and press it to his pants, grumbling the entire time as he tried to save his cup and not think about wasted tea. At the same time, the spirit felt something in the world shift as if something locked into place. Something wasn’t right, but it felt more like a puzzle piece slightly too large to fit into the slot it was intended for.

Poison and tea spilled, pants slightly damp, and Edgeworth still alive. The living version of himself stood to full height, intent on salvaging some of his dignity by either getting tea or escaping before someone saw the unfortunate wet lap. The slight sound of glass cracking, another hole in the window, and more importantly a new hole in the prosecutor himself. The ghost prosecutor watched in horror as his body once more fell to death’s hands, this time in a much more gruesome manner.

*

Seeing Edgeworth die due to a direct shot didn’t surprise Sissel. Despite it being years since Sissel had dealt with a sniper--in fact, it’d been an entire timeline ago-- the feline distinctly remembered the frustration of trying to stop a shooter he couldn’t even immediately locate. He’d also seen a lot of death: his own, his friends’, his family’s. In a way, perhaps he’d become desensitized to the whole ordeal. Which was why it took him awhile to realize Edgeworth wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, shocked at the bullet hole in his head. The poison hadn’t bothered him and the feline doubted the prosecutor hadn’t seen worse, but somehow the new situation left Edgeworth stunned.

Actually, that really was a more natural response that Sissel never saw. Maybe Sissel needed to stop hanging out with such strange, death-accepting people.

The world snapped back once more to four minutes prior. Surprisingly, time shifted even further back, Edgeworth’s death having occurred sooner due to the direct death. If they watched time flow again, no doubt it would play out in the way Sissel had altered it, with a spilled cup and a shot to the head. He had to stop the sniper, and had no idea how to do it. At least locating him was easy. The window pointed out to only one building tall enough to shoot into the cup, and Sissel’s natural night vision allowed him to make out a shadow the past couple of rewinds.

Getting to said building was a feat, but fortunately he had a means to travel, one that would make things surprisingly easy.

Grabbing the still-in-shock human ghost, Sissel disappeared into the phone line, traveling across the signal as a bright flame. They arrived at the destination in a flash, outside and with two people walking along the street. One, Phoenix Wright, was walking a bike while holding the cell phone with his shoulder. Sissel easily moved from the phone to the bike, his goal not involving the spiky haired man.

“Come on, Edgeworth, you need to relax a bit. Working all the time,” Wright claimed, marching forward. Sissel would have been content to stay on the bike but unfortunately Maya had immediately stopped moving. Needing to talk to her, the cat grabbed Edgeworth and shoved him across the distance and onto the package she carried.

Sissel himself settled on her necklace. The necklace was warm and electric. The spirit felt as if he’d been wrapped up in a blanket and fed several cups of coffee, and it was hard to tell if it was a bad thing or the most wonderful moment of his life. Regardless, the spirit channeler didn’t have much on her for him to possess, so strange, powerful necklace it was.

“Edgeworth?” Maya stated, eyes wide and occasionally glancing at Wright who was supposed to be on the phone with the prosecutor. “No, a doppelganger? Did Edgeworth have an evil twin? I bet that was the real culprit of--”

“Miss Fey, we haven’t the time to prattle on about your inane theories,” Edgeworth snapped, the girl managing to bring him out of his stupor. “We have less than four minutes before I die and I hate to repeat this method again and again.”

“Die? You’re going to die?” Maya gasped, mouth dropping in disbelief.

“It’s true, Maya,” Sissel purred. “This Edgeworth is one from the future, when he died, and there’s a sniper setting up right now to shoot him. We need you to follow our instructions now, and we can explain everything afterwards.” Maya hesitated only a second more before nodding fervently and following the ghosts’ instructions.

Recalling the past after Edgeworth’s first death, it took fifteen to twenty minutes for Maya and Wright to arrive. That arguably meant they were ten to fifteen minutes away, however, the reality was more like less than five. Maya actually had to backtrack a few steps to run into the building the prosecutor pointed out. Thankfully, Edgeworth was more familiar with the city near his office, otherwise Sissel would have had Maya going to the roof of every building nearby until he found the right one, rewinding time between each failure.

As the young assistant ran, fortune smiled upon them. Elevator doors closing, Maya slammed her arm between the doors, package in tow. She slid into the empty lift, nearly collapsing on her bundle due to the sprint. “Come on, come on, come on,” she chanted as she pressed the button for the roof. “Don’t pick anyone up. Sorry Edgeworth, I promise this will be quick.”

The time it took for the elevator to reach the top seemed to stretch its seconds to their limit, Maya forcing deep breaths as she clutched the burden possessed by Edgeworth as if she could hug the ghost himself. Edgeworth once more had gone quiet, muttering something about not even being there. Sissel, for his part, felt antsy, the energy he’d been steadily absorbing from the necklace making him want to move. When the doors finally opened, Maya couldn’t move fast enough out of the door and the cat darted off her necklace, scouting ahead as he hopped from an abandoned bike to a fire alarm to a couple of discarded bottles. He slipped through the cracked door and onto the open roof.

Only to find nothing there.

Floating above an empty soda can, Sissel gazed out on the view. “Did we have the wrong address or were we too late?” he asked, hearing Maya step up behind him with Edgeworth in tow.

“Sissel,” Edgeworth explained, his voice cracking slightly. “Look.”

The cat followed Edgeworth’s outstretched hand, a lump of cloth pressed against the lip of the roof. A fence bordered the roof, but it wouldn’t impede a sniper. It probably wouldn’t even stop someone from falling, flimsy as it was. As Maya approached the lump and the fence, Sissel--who had returned to the charged necklace--spotted a single bullet.

“I don’t think that was left on accident,” Edgeworth noted. The cat and girl turned to him, waiting for elaboration. “We mentioned before that the poisoning was to send a message. That failed, so he needed to leave one behind another way.”

“So the bullet won’t lead us to the killer?” Maya inquired.

“I doubt it. But there is something that will. Or at least, I suspect that they’ll help us stop this crime from happening in the first place.” Edgeworth’s gray eyes were locked into the blanket covered pile. “Miss Fey, I hate to inconvenience you but right now you’re the only one who can help.”

As the channeller approached, Sissel saw what Edgeworth meant. A small blue flame burned, hiding behind the lump. No doubt that meant that the object under the pile was-- “Edgeworth! It’s a dead body!” Maya exclaimed, dropping the cloth again.

“Yes, I am aware of that.”

Sissel moved off the necklace and onto another empty bottle, closer to the blue flame. He kept one ear out as Maya hesitantly listened to Edgeworth’s instruction, putting on gloves and pulling the cloth off. Procedure flew out the window, evidently, when time travel would reverse it anyway. “Hey, you awake?” Sissel asked the blue flame.

“It’s too early… for this,” the spirit muttered, assuming a vaguely human shape. It was semi-conscious, apparently, but not enough to fully manifest itself.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Sissel urged.

“Had a drink… with my new buddy…” the new spirit said.

“New buddy. You just accepted a drink from a stranger,” the cat replied, dryly. Sissel glanced at the bottle he possessed. The poison faded quickly, but if the sniper had it on hand, he could slip some poison in water and just hand it off. The boy would be dead before he realized what happened, just like Edgeworth.

“Sissel. We’re going back in time again,” Edgeworth commanded. The feline lazily flicked his gaze over to Edgeworth. “We will prevent this young man’s death and hopefully save mine in the process.”

Hopefully? As if his own life was secondary and not the cause for their antics thus far. Sissel laughed, thinking “Like father, like daughter.” Then, time warped, twisting on itself to bring the two spirits back, to four minutes before the new person died.

*

Edgeworth still felt shaken after the trip up the elevator. It was nonsensical, being scared of death when he was already dead. He barely managed to pull up the mask of intensive investigator, having Maya Fey move things at his command so he could get a better picture of the situation. The boy had been poisoned, of that he had no doubt. He showed the same symptoms as Edgeworth’s own dead body from his first death. Subtle and, with trash scattered about the roof, it’d be hard to pinpoint the object that had been poisoned, if not impossible.

However, there had been one more interesting thing of note from the young man: a stun gun for protection. Edgeworth wasn’t quite sure how it’d be useful, but something in his head told him to hold onto that piece of information.

Time snapped back into place after Sissel reversed it, a trick the cat claimed Edgeworth could do too but the prosecutor preferred to just follow the cat. The roof was still littered with trash and two individuals stood by a ledge, talking. One was the victim, a young boy with tears in his eyes as he told the tale of his woes to a second individual.

“So we meet at last,” Edgeworth muttered, hearing a meow of agreement from Sissel.

The second individual had a briefcase beside him and was wearing a trench coat and hat, with sunglasses loose in one hand and a scarf or bandana tugged down onto his chest. It’d easily hide his appearance from cameras during his arrival or escape, even if he appeared suspicious because of it. Right now, however, his face was exposed. It was an older man with dark hair and the beginning signs of a beard. No one Edgeworth knew, but he made sure to memorize it, intent on hunting the man down should he try to escape.

“Oh, hold on, I brought some drinks! I’ll share one with you!” the young soon-to-be-dead man announced, turning to a pile of blankets beside him and unravelling it. A few bottles of unlabeled drinks were uncovered and he swiped up two before offering one to the stranger. “Here, they’re a homebrew… from my ex…” Another bout of waterworks as the guy tried to explain how she had made these flavors especially for him. The sniper glanced nervously behind him, clearly checking on his target while the young man rambled endlessly in a half drunk, half heartbroken stupor. Finally, the brokenhearted man passed a bottle over and then held his own up for a toast.

After the bottles obligingly tapped, the sniper turned to his drink and pretended to take a sip before making a disgusted face. “Well, this one is definitely not to my taste,” he muttered. “I suspect it was made just for you.”

“Really? Maybe she does love me!” the younger man cheered, taking the bottle.

Edgeworth saw Sissel move into action as the victim held up his prize, the other bottle fallen and forgotten after the stranger’s suggestion. The cat possessed the bottle, waiting as he watched the boy spin in joy and the sniper glance between him and Edgeworth’s window. Finally, the feline moved, rolling the bottle under the young man’s feet and causing him to trip. Both items in his hands flew to the sides as the victim toppled over, letting out a loud, startled cry as he hit the roof. He groaned on the ground, too drunk to stand after his fall.

The shooter sighed heavily. “I was hoping to handle this cleanly, but you’ve really left me no choice with your annoying antics.” He pulled a pistol from his side before aiming it at the younger guy. Edgeworth turned to the stun gun on the ground. Sissel didn’t know it was there; Edgeworth hadn’t told him.

The prosecutor acted without thinking, too panicked in trying to save this man’s life, someone he didn’t know but would die, in part, because of Edgeworth himself. The man on the ground seemed to change color, or more specifically his close. The shirt turned completely into a dark gray sheen just as the sniper fired. The sound of a bullet hitting metal echoed in the rooftops. The victim groaned in more pain, no doubt likely to suffer a bruise, just as the shirt changed back. The sniper faltered, confusion evident on his face just as another individual entered the area.

“Stop right there!” Maya shouted, her energetic self hurrying onto the scene, unquestioning in Edgeworth’s request for haste. The spirit channeller glanced at the body on the ground and then to the sniper. A blue flame flew across the ground, moving across objects, desperate to get to Maya as the enemy took aim once more, this time on the purple robed girl.

This time, as the sniper made to kill another victim, energy burst forth, green light streaming from Maya’s necklace. They seemed to form ghostly chains, reaching around and protecting Maya, , gripping onto the other two. It formed a reaction, making objects act and dance as if Sissel was there, using his trick to manipulate it.

Then the stun gun went off, striking out like lightning in the intensified power. The sniper cried out in pain, dropping his gun and stumbling backwards. He tried to reach for his gun with shaking hands but screamed out again as the gun seemed to grow in size, becoming larger than him. Shocked, both physically and mentally, the man passed out.

There was a moment of quiet where the energy withdrew, leaving only a feeling of electricity in the air.

“That was insane!” Maya shouted, interrupting the odd peace. Edgeworth felt his vision fading as Maya darted over to check on the kid, talking to the air.

*

The prosecutor woke up with a start, stuck momentarily in the memories of his time after death and the reality that kept him alive. His pants were wet, the tea spilled due to Sissel and his ghost self. The strange feeling of remembering the incident, but from a third person perspective, left him contemplative.

Ah, right, speaking Sissel! Edgeworth hurried to the couch where he saw the cat before, scouring about to locate the feline before finding a sleeping form under the furniture.

“Ah! Don’t move him yet! I have Sissel right here!” Maya interrupted, startling Edgeworth. The prosecutor jolted away from his couch to face the new arrivals. Wright stood with a sheepish, lightly baffled grin and Maya clutched her parcel tightly before beaming at him.

“Sissel says there’s a chance you might not remember but--”

“I remember it all very clearly,” Edgeworth muttered, standing up. “I still am not sure if I believe it.”

“Oh it’s all true,” the cat purred in his ear, his body still under the couch as far as Miles could tell. “If you want the full story, I am happy to tell it, but first let me say congratulations on surviving the night.”

*

A month passed before Sissel’s family could make it out to visit. Not out of any lack of urgency, or monetary as Edgeworth had offered to pay for their flight. Sissel merely had to explain that his family was much like Edgeworth’s, relaxed and unorganized with a young woman often leading the charge into chaos. His family still worried, but since Sissel himself had told them he was fine, by traveling across the lines and talking to Jowd, they were content to find a convenient time to make it over instead of hopping on the first train and throwing everyone’s life back home into more disarray than normal.

Of course, Kamila called every night to check in with Edgeworth on how Sissel was doing, the eager young girl quickly winning Miles’ heart.

Sissel was also partially grateful for the month, allowing him time to see the small crime organization they’d caught be properly punished. He followed Maya into court that day, the channeller a spectator for Edgeworth’s prosecution. After the trial, Maya tossed confetti into the air, rejoicing in the imprisonment of the man who killed her friend once, though she had no recollection of the deaths.

The feline also was allotted time to explain his story, dividing it into pieces over several nights for an excited audience--namely Maya. Wright still seemed skeptical, but remained polite for his eager friend. The fact Edgeworth confirmed the story of his own death clearly gave weight to the situation, though. Also something about Psyche-locks, though Sissel hadn’t had that fully explained to him.

Playing as a communicator for Pess and Miles was a bit fun, if tedious. The dog had so much she wanted to say but neither creatures she wanted to converse with were extremely chatty. Still, she was pleased to be able to tell Miles just how much she loved him, which may have brought a couple of tears to the owner’s eyes.

Nothing quite delighted Sissel, however, as the moment he got to introduce Miles and the rest to his family. Kamila interrupted it by immediately swooping him into a hug, followed by him being transferred between each family member until he settled in Jowd’s arms. The feline was both content and annoyed, but dove into introductions, using the spirit channeller as a mouthpiece.

“You can understand him without having died?” Lynne asked, barely holding back her excitement during the greetings.

“Yep! I’m a spirit channeller so I’ve always been able to communicate with the dead. And the in-betweens, apparently.”

“She’s quite useful, if a bit pushy, I’ll admit,” Sissel purred.

“He says I’m quite useful!” Maya repeated, ignoring Sissel’s glare at her incomplete translation.

Jowd laughed. “Well, he must have been quite the handful. Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Nonsense. I owe him my life,” Edgeworth replied, bowing formally to the detective.

“You too? Well, Sissel does have a bad habit of saving those in need.”

“I admit his zealousness to help a stranger really did come in handy.”

“Hypocrites,” Sissel muttered, hearing his words repeated by Maya. Both men laughed, Jowd’s a full guffaw beside Edgeworth’s short and quiet chuckle.

Edgeworth reached over, petting the cat briefly with a smile on his. “Thank you, Sissel. Sincerely. For saving my life and for helping me find the truth.” Sissel purred, nudging his head into the prosecutor’s hand in response. The spirit cat would go home today, but there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that they would all see each other again.

And really, who said black cats are bad luck?